How It All Began

It was long ago when the world was somewhat

flatter

that the first farmer gave up growing

rope

in order to cultivate rats, charmed by the dears

hustling

to make the earth a labyrinth, an unseen

order

of soil and chips of lightning driven

cruelly

down the path of most resistance up

straight

into untouched air where the drill bits turned

molten

but not too soon, for the blood and rust machine

shook

and all at once a hundred million differentials

meshed

and up stood civilization on its own hind legs

yowling

for the flash and tonnage of razor cathedrals

tumbled

in the battle-lit night of smoke and flame

cheerless

as chaos and the grim expectation of the last

command

which, when it came, split open the planetary

skull

out of which cracked pot invisible consciousness

grew,

sent levers to the base of the buried sun,

lifted

the mean god into life and everlasting

misunderstanding

to shine on the clouded dawn of ratkind,

who,

in ceremonious appreciation, gave the last farmer

land

flat enough to look like home, although it smelled

infested.

Finally Dancing Naked